


Kiss me goodnight

by aboutmikasa (Coco_c)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, RivaMika Week, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22157320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coco_c/pseuds/aboutmikasa
Summary: For Rivamika Week 2019 | Favorite tropes: PinningCanonverse/Canon divergence
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Levi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 163





	Kiss me goodnight

Six months and three days. Mikasa didn’t count the days but the nights staring at the top of their bunk beds. Long nights trying to avoid thoughts of innocent touches setting her skin on fire. 

Their final mission lasted one week, its success brought a major victory and a subsequent truce. People loved the paraphernalia and colorful display of the celebration, carnivals, and fireworks. Little they cared about the tedious details of the infiltration and the boring hours of surveillance. Nothing fancy to tell about it, except for _the incident_. 

One day before the big explosion and three before the armistice. 

Mikasa enjoyed the carnival, eating sweets and pretending the weather blushed her cheeks and not his hands telling her the weaknesses in the fair gunshot. Even with her hands trembling and all, she won the gigantic teddy bear Sasha wanted. Levi bought for all of them mulled wine and told her it would help her to keep her hands warm and she nodded. A simple, boring nod. Jean offered more enthusiastic gratitude. 

After months of uneasiness and annoying self-consciousness, Mikasa still blamed Armin. 

Her best friend intel told them they had ten more minutes, but the Marleys returned and Hange—still maneuvering the bomb—asked for any distraction; to complicate things more, Mikasa and Levi had no place to hide. With not only their lives but the mission and their people in danger, they needed to think on their feet. They needed to buy more minutes, protect their identities and complete the mission. That Mikasa understood. What puzzled her and took away her sleep was Levi pushing her against the wall and kissing her; with impressive dexterity, her captain lifted her, and she followed his lead, wrapping her legs around him, kissing him back and covering their faces with her arms. 

The soldiers suspected nothing but a secret rendezvous. To complete the charade, Jean moved a cart, blocking the alley and after some crass remarks, their enemies walked in the other direction.

It worked but affected her, even if she wanted to think otherwise. Not because they kissed more than necessary; Levi moved from her as fast as he did the opposite and she retrieved her fingers from his hair. Too many things demanded their immediate attention and none of them said a word. They didn’t need it; no when Hange witnessed their making out session. 

With their lives out of danger, Hange joked about it, inquiring the most personal details and pushing Mikasa’s patience. Levi and Armin went to town, leaving her behind with a keen commander. 

“That was hot,” Hange exclaimed with exaggerated gestures and Mikasa didn’t flinch. Doing the dishes never seemed more interesting. 

“I think I’m pregnant and he touched you, not me,” Sasha contributed and Mikasa threw the dirty rack to her. 

“It was a diversion,” she reasoned, her face devoid of expression. “The mission was in danger and we needed to do something fast.”

It went like that for weeks. The only one who didn’t talk about it was Levi. Well, kinda.

“I hope that doesn’t make our relationship uncomfortable,” his oozing molasses voice sent an electric shook down her spine. 

“Not at all,” and despite her words, her heart hammered against her chest. 

Her words didn’t match her feelings, however, she tried to do what she told him. Their relationship mattered to her, and she fought to not misunderstand what he said and did around her, and yet, every little he did affect her. 

Her own actions changed. 

One day, he praised her aim and later in the afternoon, her teammates asked her what happened because she smiled the whole day. If Levi talked about a blend of tea, she wanted to taste it too. And much to her dismay, the days he traveled to help Historia, her mood swings drove her crazy.

She was beyond thunderstruck at her own feelings and needs. 

Her fingertips caressed her lips missing the softness of his. 

“He ravished you, that wasn’t just a kiss,” Sasha said a lazy afternoon when Mikasa confided her inner turmoil. 

“It’s crazy,” Mikasa mumbled against a pillow. “He is Levi.” 

“That’s why it’s not crazy.” 

Her friend didn’t understand. Mikasa didn’t understand it either but the more she thought about it the more she agreed on it. Levi made sense in the craziest way.

It was a new world. A better world.

It didn’t change one important factor, her mentor didn’t even imagine her as more than his subordinate. 

“You two are friends. Maybe not best friends, but you talk to him about stuff. None of us does it.”

Friends. The word left a bitter aftertaste. Either as his subordinate or his friend, they shared a platonic bond. 

Mikasa much-preferred _friend_ , especially when someone asked if they were family, as in blood relationship. “We are not!” she said with emphasis when someone asked her directly; too much emphasis to go unnoticed. And for the sake of bad luck, the object of her desires heard her.

The wine she drank alone with Sasha tasted bitter than the mulled one he bought for her—and his Squad. Bitter or not, she got wasted. 

“He is so… so” her hand dropped and she laid her head on the wall, closing her eyes and sighing. “... annoying.” 

“And perfect,” Sasha grinned.

“And perfect.” 

The longing in her own voice irritated her. 

“I like titans better.”

“Much easier to talk,” Sasha grinned and reach for a new bottle. 

“Yeah!” The sudden movement dizzied her. “And they don’t run away from you.” 

A girl’s night in the wine cellar of the castle, courtesy of Sasha, and they shared everyday problems and boy problems, forgetting the war. 

After another drink, Mikasa returned the bottle to Sasha and spoke as paused as she could. “I hate him.” 

“No, you don’t,” for mysterious reasons, drunk Sasha spilled wisdom. 

“I hate you both.” 

With that, she tried to walk, but the room spun too fast and Mikasa lay on the floor, unwilling to move until the room stopped the motion. 

“You love us both.” 

Her words sank, hitting her hard, and she wanted to say no, but she couldn’t. 

Months of debilitating and crippling longing and Mikasa needed him to tell her how crazy she was. Needed to tell him to stop being nice and considerate, and praising her, and helping her with training and her stance, and all the things Levi did because he confused her. If he did the same for the others, it wasn’t because he thought of her as someone special. 

Drunk Mikasa was a calm-and-collected Mikasa, a bit giggly, but calm. However, in her state, wine and the desire of kissing him again agitated her. So, usually, Mikasa’d have said no, when Sasha suggested she should pay him a visit. Instead, she carried herself to Levi’s quarters. 

She prepared a speech on her way, ready to speak her thoughts and kiss him. Or kissing him first and telling him later. She was too drunk to decide. 

At least she didn’t knock on Hange’s door. 

His nemesis looked at her, with his damn quizzical brow, bed hair and those lips. His lips allured her, and she forgot the speech. The kiss, she didn’t forget, but the floor moved.

“Mikasa,” he called her name and goosebumps raced over her skin. Against anyone’s better judgment, Mikasa came closer and ran her finger lightly over his parted lips. “Are you okay?”

“I,” she grabbed him, resting her face on his shoulders, very close to his face. “Need to sit, everything is moving.”

The Captain mumbled something she didn't understand—but wasn't hard to guess—and helped her to a chair. 

“Why the fuck were you drinking?” 

While he lectured her, reminding her how little she needed to get drunk and her place in the military, Mikasa noticed his damp hair and the warm kettle. Her mind too busy inspecting the room to pay attention. She’d seen the kettle many times. A very nice kettle. Maybe he wanted tea, and she interrupted his bedtime routine. Maybe she could make amends for her sudden interruption, brewing his tea. 

She retrieved her hand cursing.

“Don’t touch it!” Levi took her hand, checking the redness on her finger. “Are you a kid? The damn thing is hot.” 

She smiled; her hand felt great between his. She used her other hand to touch his collarbone.

“Now what?” He frowned, his irritation arising. 

She put the finger close to his eyes, and he took that hand too. 

“It didn’t burn,” she explained, pouting and baffled. 

“What?” Levi massaged his temples and forehead, and she missed the warmth of his hands. “How much did you drink?” 

“Four bottles,” she smiled and used her fingers, proud of knowing the answer and waiting for his praise. Then, she remembered he was an official and shushed him. “But you can’t tell Commander Hange we took them from her stash. It’s a secret.”

With her finger resting against his lips, Mikasa remembered her mission and how much she wanted to kiss him. Her eyes fixed on his lips.

He rolled his eyes. 

“Brat, rest,” Levi carried her to his bed and with her stubbornness striking, the girl didn’t let go of his shoulders, keeping him at her side. “Why did you even come here? It wouldn’t surprise me if you got lost.”

He covered her with the sheets and Mikasa grabbed his hand, preventing him from leaving. 

“Because you never come to me,” she whispered. Levi stared at the hand squeezing his hand. 

“You,” he paused and swallowed. Expectation showing on her eyes. “Do you want me to come to you?” She nodded her reply. “Oh.”

Only the sound of the fire on the chimney surrounded them. His silence killed her but she couldn't blame him.

When she met his eyes, her Captain seemed confused but not angry or irritated, and she saw what she knew was the quietest of his smiles. Levi sat, holding her hand. 

“I thought,” his gaze as soft as his voice. “You didn’t like the kiss.”

“I didn’t like that you only kiss me there—and just once.” After months of preventing her feelings from exploding and sleepless nights, Mikasa's stress released, exhausting her. She rested her forehead on his shoulder. 

The butterflies in her stomach, the rosiness of her cheeks, her fingers trembling, all because of him. Her boldness sobered her. 

“I didn’t want to kiss you, for the first time, in the middle of a mission as a cheap disguise.”

 _For the first time_. 

His words lingered and an outburst of happiness grew inside of her. 

Mikasa moved to face him, and the intensity of his stare marveled. The deep blue of his eyes gleamed, and she caressed his face, noticing his goosebumps and the uneven breathing. 

“Can I kiss you?” she ventured the question, biting her lips.

“You are drunk,” he said closing his eyes. “Maybe tomorrow you will regret...” 

“I still will like you tomorrow,” the last thing she could handle was a misunderstanding. No, her feelings were strong enough to know her decision wasn't for the alcohol.

The tiny smile melted her and Levi kissed her softly, a too-short kiss, and she moved to kiss him again but Levi shook his head and kissed her forehead. 

“Tomorrow, when you’re not drunk, I’ll kiss you if you still want to,” he silenced the 'but' forming on her lips with a soft peck. “Mikasa, you’re not the only one with doubts.” 

The shy and sad way he spoke awoke in her a need of protecting him; she understood him, how couldn’t she. Mikasa embraced him and cuddled against him, feeling the rhythm of his heart. 

He made her happy. 

“I love you, you know,” she said and his heart jumped. 

“Mikasa,” he hesitated and she knew he needed to be sure; she knew how deep ran his pain and she snuggled closer to him. 

“I will love you tomorrow too, so, don’t worry,” Levi wrapped his arms against her, kissing her forehead again. “There’s no rush.”

She waited for him months—years probably,—and she knew he had waited too. That night, hugging him and sleeping in his arms was perfect enough. 


End file.
